


One in the Same

by Jujus_island



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Bonding, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Fluff, Gay Panic, Gift Fic, Happy Ending, Humor, I Tried, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Logic | Logan Sanders Needs a Hug, M/M, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet, i cant help it, just like you shea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jujus_island/pseuds/Jujus_island
Summary: Logan abruptly leaves, Virgil's on a mission to find out why. It turns out, they have more in common than they thought.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	One in the Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilyLane123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyLane123/gifts).



Seeing Logan get up and abruptly leave was new. On any given day he’d just sit and accept the abuse, letting his input be trampled over by whatever mindless thoughts the other sides found it necessary to voice. Now he was just gone. No one seemed to notice, except Virgil.

Virgil decided at that moment to go and investigate. Really, he knew it wasn’t his business, and really he knew he shouldn’t care, but something else possessed him at that moment to go and seek out the logical facet of Thomas’ brain. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why he felt the need, it could be the similarities they possessed, that he was willing to acknowledge. 

They both carried the often overlooked burden of keeping Thomas, somewhat, sane as they both possessed to comprehend and understand actual, living breathing reality for what it was unlike the others who lived through rose-tinted, or maybe brown-tinted in Remus’ case, glasses. Virgil had respect, yeah that’s the word, for that specific side. And maybe he was a bit more inclined toward logic. 

This respect always lingered in his chest, pressed smoothly between his love for My Space and Shadow the Hedgehog 2005 even when he did presume that Logan didn’t like him. It was admittedly astonishing to hear that it wasn’t the case, even though not directly stated. That’s why Logan picked him for the argument in the first place, he was the only one who could hold a candle to the personification of intelligence himself. 

The ego boost that interaction gave him was a small wave he willingly rode in the comfy corners of his mind for weeks. And this was an opportunity to, perhaps, return the favor. But his own insidious disposition was eating him from the inside out. Go figures, anxiety is anxious. 

When you think of emotion, feelings, sentiments, anything of that nature, the last thing your brain would choose to associate with that selection of words was Logan Sanders. He was proficient in a multitude of subjects, able to summon knowledge from a plethora of reputable studies relevant to any given topic discussion but, something that was as primordial as emotions was a marvel to him. 

At a first glance, you could make the same connection to Virgil. Someone consumed by emotion but, seemingly, a strict binary of feeling that can be connected back to anger or sadness. But, just like any other metaphorical person, he had a wide array of emotions all bundled in a blanket of denial; Janus was sure to approve. He could picture.. maybe Logan was the same.

Even though his apprehension was great as his hand graced the cold doorknob, granting access to his room, he managed to overcome his aversion to see what lay inside. He wasn’t too surprised to find Logan writing something down in a notebook, although he pictured him cartoonishly pacing around with a head full of thoughts coming up here. 

He was about to leave Logan to his musings, probably writing down some slang flashcards, before he could see him uncharacteristically lurch back upon meeting Virgil's tired eyes with his. 

“What were you doing?” He couldn’t not ask, seeing the ever stringent Logan fumble around a notebook. He shot up from the bed, immediately fixing his stance so that he was standing with perfect posture and fixed his glasses. 

With his hands at his waist joined in a comfortable and pensive position, he finally addressed the sudden intruder. “The better question is, what are you doing here, in my room, Virgil?” 

Like a deer caught in the headlight of shame, Virgil was frozen and without an answer. What was he doing here? He could ask himself the same question, and he most certainly should’ve provided himself with a straight answer before finding his way up here. After taking the uncomfortable, for lack of a better word, moment to funnel his eclectic thoughts into one, articulated line of dialogue, he addressed Logan. “I wanted to see why you left.” 

“Oh.” Logan may have been a smidge too taken aback by this, well under the assumption that his sudden disappearance would go unnoticed. He waded through his confusion, setting his voice back into its comfortable, matter of fact, self. “My input was being disregarded,” He sighed “once again.” 

A sudden sense of poignancy was not lost on Virgil. He may not be as well versed in the issue of having your intellect be constantly discredited, but, being misunderstood, it was second nature to Virgil. And, maybe, that’s all that it was. Maybe all the other sides were too stupid to understand Logan, they just didn’t get him. Not even Virgil felt like he really ‘got’ Logan. 

Vulnerability, especially in the spoken department was a foreign beast to the both of them. It was weird, loud, uncomfortable, and didn’t even have a scientific name. Virgil made the best of an awkward situation though and moved over to sit himself down on Logan’s bed, regardless of permission. 

Curiosity possessed him and demanded that he open Logan’s notebook, wanting to laugh, mostly cringe, at whatever he wrote down. He was in the midst of reaching for it when, abruptly, a tensed hand caught the arm of his patched hoodie before he could even grace the cover of the offensively plain notebook. 

“Don’t!” For a second time tonight, Logan wasn’t acting like himself. Anxious and embarrassed was Virgil’s thing. Logan corrected his inflection, not completely ridding it of the inner terror he felt surrounding Virgil’s intrepid pursuits. “It’s confidential.”

A secret, huh? That’s new. He had enough respect for Logan to not simply flip open the cover and devour the contents of his secret diary, so he thought he’d at least justify it. “C’mon Logan, don’t forget who was in charge of Thomas’ emo phase. I’m sure it’s not-” It was poetry. And not lines of binary code or sterile observations like one might expect from Logan, it was soulful with bitter analogies, reflecting upon the pains of life with a brutal, harsh outlook.

“What is this?” It couldn’t be what Virgil thought it was. Creativity was Roman’s… and Remus’ gig, he never would have expected to see couplets neatly placed in freeform stanzas with words popping out to him like ‘blood’ and ‘despair’. It all gave him an axiomatic sense of deja-vu. 

Before Logan could backtrack and try to justify what was before him, Virgil popped up from the bed and rushed towards the door, before he could close it, he turned to Logan. “Wait there, I have to get something.” 

It was a suffocating couple of seconds before Virgil charged back into the room, his own notebook in hand, which was adorned with stickers advertising his favorite bands such as green day and My Chemical Romance. It could be seen from a mile away that this particular notebook had been used, quite a bit actually, as its pages were seemingly repelled by the spiral spine and there was an elastic strap crudely placed around it, keeping the entire thing together. 

Words weren’t necessary at this moment, it would only be empty. Virgil opened his notebook and handed it to Logan. “You have excellent penmanship.” He commented, granting a snort from Virgil. It was a precious sound Logan deduced. 

“Read it, nerd.” And so he did. As it runs out, Logan isn’t the only one with a strange affinity, probably coping mechanism, of writing emo poetry.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY SHEA
> 
> So yeah I made this for my sister cuz we're both bi & single on Valentine's day let's get it. ALSO, I'm literally not in this fandom y'all, I'm sonic trash but I did my research so tell me how I did, feel free to rost me in the comments below if this is nonsensical trash.


End file.
